Clergyman's

Be sure from nature never to depart;
To copy nature is the task of art.
The noblest poets own her sovereign sway,
And ever follow where she leads the way.
- Christopher Pitt

Be sure from nature never to depart;
To copy nature is the task of art.
The noblest poets own her sovereign sway,
And ever follow where she leads the way.
- Christopher Pitt

Be sure from nature never to depart;
To copy nature is the task of art.
The noblest poets own her sovereign sway,
And ever follow where she leads the way.
- Christopher Pitt

The shrill echoes ring amidst the skies.
- Christopher Pitt

I proved unfaithful to my former spouse,
And now I reap the fruits of broken vows!
- Christopher Pitt

Ah, mighty Queen! you urge me to disclose,
And feel, once more, unutterable woes.
- Christopher Pitt

Ah, mighty Queen! you urge me to disclose,
And feel, once more, unutterable woes.
- Christopher Pitt

Ye subterranean gods! whose awful sway
The gliding ghosts and silent shades obey:
O Chaos, hear! and Phlegethon profound!
Whose solemn empire stretches wide around!
Give me, ye great tremendous powers! to tell
Of scenes and wonders in the depths of Hell;
Give me your mighty secrets to display
From those black realms of darkness to the day.
- Christopher Pitt

But oh! may Earth her dreadful gulf display,
And gaping snatch me from the golden day;
May I be hurled, by Heaven's almighty fire,
Transfixed with thunder, and involved in fire,
Down to the shades of Hell, from realms of light,
The deep, deep shades of everlasting night.
- Christopher Pitt

But hear, ye gods! and Heaven's great ruler, hear,
With due regard, a king's and father's prayer!
My dear, dear Pallas, if the fates ordain
Safe to return, and bless these eyes again:
With age, pain, sickness, this one blessing give;
On this condition I'll endure to live.
But oh! if fortune has decreed his doom,
Now, now, by death, prevent my woes to come;
Now, while my hopes and fears uncertain flow,
Now, ere she lifts her hand to strike the blow;
While in these feeble arms I strain the boy,
My sole delight, my last surviving joy.
Ere the sad news of his untimely doom
Shall bow this head with sorrow to the tomb!
- Christopher Pitt